treatment

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Poor Unfortunate Souls

December 27, 2009 in as I retire | 4 comments

“The only way to get what you want is to become a human yourself.”

Ursula, from The Little Mermaid

Two years ago on this day, I had been tweaking since late afternoon on Christmas day , and didn’t stop until the second week of January, when I stopped for a few days to work, then continued tweaking until January 26. Really, I had started the first week of December, so for that seven week period, I was not actively using meth for a total of about seven days. And they weren’t consecutive. It was not unlike the previous six Christmas days in my life: Dealers don’t take Christmas day off, and neither did I.

A year ago I was transitioning out of long-term treatment, and had just spent a weird and nervous Christmas with family who didn’t really know what to say or do—and neither did I. I had no idea what to expect when I returned to work, to life…. It all seemed so overwhelming. Naturally, I lied and expressed almost total confidence to my treatment providers—I wanted out. The difference of a few days really would have been make-or-break for my career path (including but not limited to my current job). I wasn’t sure my occupation was what I wanted forever, but I knew I wanted a job and benefits when I left treatment, so I faked it, and everyone at my treatment center just crossed their fingers and hoped for the best, I think. No one was thrilled with my plan, but it was a plan. Of sorts.

This year, I think I had something like what a “normal” Christmas is—maybe even better. It was pretty laid back as these things go, but after we left my grandmother’s house, my mom told me how much fun all the grandkids, and great-grandkids had fun playing with me. And she said it was wonderful to hear my laugh again. I didn’t realize it had been that long.

Two years ago, I was so out of touch, I could barely speak—sometimes I couldn’t even do that. Last year I was so disoriented I wasn’t quite sure how I would make it, even though I thought somehow I might.

This year, I got to laugh. Not at anyone, or anything, or for any reason in particular—just because I was having fun. We were having fun. And kids can be really, really funny. And smart. And I had truly, totally forgotten that.

Life = good. Using = not so much.

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under the dome.

December 14, 2009 in just random thoughts....., up(on) awakening | 1 comment

this is a lot shinier than my treatment facility was.Based on the recommendation of Vicarious Rising, I downloaded and am in the process of listening to Stephen King’s “Under the Dome.” I haven’t read Stephen King since I was in high school, and I’ve been missing out on a lot of fun, I think.

The treatment facility I went to had a separate residential component that was referred to, inexplicably, as “the Dome.” I say inexplicably because no one was ever able to give an explanation for the name—it just was. I decided at some point it was short for domicile—I was trying to make sense of the place, and the explanation “we don’t know why, it just is” didn’t really give me any confidence in the facility or the people running it.

But, I think King has given a more satisfactory explanation in this novel—the idea of a domed community as a sort of social pressure cooker, where fear, tension and conflict exacerbate emotions and actions—more aptly describes early recovery in inpatient treatment facilities. I think the best and worst of us (patients and caregivers) comes out in rehab.

The nonsense that people who work in treatment have to put up with is really astounding—which may help explain not only the turnover rate, but the startling number of care providers who appear to just be nuts. They’d have to be, to put up with fresh addicts every day for the amount of money they make, right? Some handle the pressure better than others, with grace and humanity and humor. Others, I think, lose their sense of purpose—they live under the dome, as well, their voices of authority echoing back at them, unchecked. But I’m grateful for all of them, and the life they helped give me back. The holidays are especially gruesome in treatment. My thoughts are with them all, patients and staff alike.

In any event, “Under the Dome” is a great, fun read. But the references to smoking meth are a little… unsettling. I’m coming up on two years off the stuff, and some of King’s writing, though it doesn’t glamorize the stuff, is still provocative. I would not recommend this book for anyone actively trying to get off meth.

But for people who need a reminder of what it feels like to be in very early recovery or active addiction? This is the book for you, if your addiction and early recovery were anything like mine….. or King’s?

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back in rehab (briefly)

October 8, 2009 in just random thoughts..... | 3 comments

So I’m back at rehab (visiting, to pick up my one year chip), and things are so strangely familiar. There seem to be three facial expressions here:  Terrified, Enraged and At Peace. I would say I’m projecting, but I don’t think so. I just looked around the room, and that’s pretty much it (if I include the bored ones in with At Peace).

I called my mom this morning to thank her for picking me up this day last year, and helping me get the help I need, and to apologize for putting her through the ordeal of my life, but especially that day.

And she told me that was the best day of her life. Not when she got married, or gave birth to me or my siblings, but the day I tried to kill myself. The day I finally made the call to get some help.

I’m not sure who is crazier, her or me, but I’m glad we have each other. Off to get a chip. I earned it.

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clarity

July 1, 2009 in up(on) awakening | 1 comment

i can flyA note on the Terminally Ridonculous Caregivers at my treatment center: They weren’t all ridonculous. My primary care provider, known as my case manager, was extraordinarily wise, insightful, human and humble. The incredible hubris displayed by many of the employees there has not infected her, and I don’t believe it will.

Where most of the treatment staff made pronouncements, she asked questions. Where other staff members sought to humiliate patients, she sought to make them understand themselves (even if that sometimes required humility). Where other staff members acted like God, she acted like someone who actually believes in God. She made all the difference for me.

There are plenty of things in this world much more loathsome than people who claim to be sober abusing their positions of power in treatment centers, but it still sucks.

My time in treatment was extraordinarily beneficial to me, but all of the treatment I received there was not. For me, staying in treatment really was one of the going to any lengths we hear about in the rooms. But without my case manager, I don’t know that it would have been possible. I’m so thankful for her today, and grateful that there are others like her who give so much of themselves (in and out of treatment centers), so that us addicts can find hope.

It is not uncommon to hear people who have been to treatment centers say that they do not know how they could have gotten sober without the treatment center. I don’t think that is true at all. For me it was either die or get sober—in or out of treatment.

But I don’t know that I would have made as much personal and spiritual progress as quickly as I have without my case manager as my guide, and without the confinement and immersion in an atmosphere of recovery.

Ultimately though, I’m on my own in the rooms. We all are. We choose our sponsors, we choose to listen and hear or not, to share honestly or not, to be a part of the fellowship or not. Ideally, treatment centers help us to make better choices, but the choices are still up to us, like they are for everyone else inside and outside the rooms.

I hope I make good choices today. I know I’m capable of making better ones than I did in the past. My choices may not be crystal clear, but they also aren’t crystal.

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